


Tale as Old as Time

by theparthenon



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparthenon/pseuds/theparthenon
Summary: Audrey Campbell was born with adventure in her soul. As a nurse she traveled the world until family tragedy brought her back to Gotham. Bane's uprising, and an unfortunate turn of events, places her in a situation she could never have prepared for. Featuring everyone's favorite mercenary. Rated M for language, violence, and some sexual content.





	1. Prologue

_“I'll never know what made it so exciting_  
_Why all at once my heart took flight_  
_I only know when he began to dance with me_  
_I could have danced, danced, danced all night”_

 _― Alan Jay Lerner, “I Could Have Danced All Night” from My Fair Lady_

* * *

 

Prologue

A line of limousines and other luxury vehicles idled as decadent guests, most assisted by chauffeurs, stepped out of them. Audrey Campbell pressed her face close to the glass, eyes straining to see through the inky blackness of the window tint, and tried to catch a glimpse of Gotham City's finest.

This was her second date with a Chad something or other. _Hearst_ , she reminded herself. He worked at Daggett Industries and had been a blind date set up by her friend, Beth. Their first date had gone well. Well enough, at least, that they had agreed to a second. Now she was being whisked to a charity ball thrown by Miranda Tate, a name and face Audrey had only ever seen in the papers or on the news.

She took a deep breath, counted to three, and slowly exhaled, rubbing her palms along the slick leather seats of the interior. In the year that she had been back in Gotham, she had been on several dates, none of which had been this fancy or made her this nervous. She hadn't grown up in the poorer parts of the city, but her family was never what anyone would have deemed wealthy. _Here's to hoping I don't royally screw this up_.

A quick glance to her left confirmed that her date was still talking business. He had been on his phone non-stop since the car had driven away from her apartment. "The price of negotiations, I'm afraid," he had grumbled at her, covering the mouthpiece.

They briefly locked eyes and she held up her compact mirror. He nodded, a patronizing smile on his face. When he looked away, now barking orders into the phone in a stern voice, she rolled her eyes and made sure the carefully (and rarely) applied makeup had not melted off somewhere between her apartment and the sprawling manor.

A beep signaled the end of the call. "Ready?" he asked, putting on a silver Venetian doctor mask. He stepped out first, missing her grimace at the pet name, and offered his hand as Audrey slipped her own mask on, a crimson and gold number with a large flower and fake cranberry-like jewels hanging off one end. It matched the deep red dress she was wearing.

The walk from limo to ball room felt like a blur. She was glad for the anonymity of the mask as photographers snapped their cameras, lights blinding. Under no circumstances did she want her face to end up attached to some story in the gossip column. The ladies at work already had enough ammunition to tease her with between her general lack of a love life and impossible work ethic; she did not need to pour straight gasoline on that fire.

As if by magic, a glass of champagne appeared in her hand. She had just put the flute to her lips when Chad linked his arm through her and dragged her off into a corner to meet his boss, Phillip Stryver, barely having time to appreciate what, or who, was around her.

"Mr. Stryver." Audrey found herself shoved forward unceremoniously. _Like a lamb being inspected before slaughter_. "I'd like you to meet my date, Miss Audrey Campbell." She beamed at him so hard her mouth hurt. "Audrey works at Gotham General Hospital."

"Pleasure," he said, giving her hand a weak shake. Her father had always put stock in a man's handshake and his belief had spilled over to his daughter. _He's as arrogant as he is nicely dressed. God, I could never be a politician's wife_ , and at this she snorted unattractively. Neither man heard her commit the unladylike offense, but a figure standing next to Stryver chuckled.

Until that moment she had been completely unaware of him. He was tall, nicely dressed, but cheaply so compared to others in the room. His mask was basic: a black Zorro number. _Hm… stance: rigid, clothes: non-descript, invisible: check, eyes: everywhere. Body guard. Of course._ She decided she liked him as he was one of the least pretentious people in her immediate vicinity; he had found her faux pas funny, at least. _And he's got a sexy laugh_.

She glanced around the room, wondering which hoity-toity political figure he was working for. Curiosity fully piqued, but unable to pick his patron out of the sea of finely dressed people, she looked back to study him again. He raised an eyebrow at her. She could feel the heat of a blush on her cheeks, slightly embarrassed at having been caught, but stared on. A tingling sensation crept over her, warming her entire body. Under the mask his eyes were a lovely shade of blue-green and they locked on to hers as though encouraging her to make the next move.

With that, the spell was broken. _Not brave enough, sorry, buddy._ She was still feeling bold enough, however, to shoot him a wink before turning her attentions back to her date.

The thrill of feeling fancy was short lived. Chad and Stryver talked business for what was easily the most boring fifteen minutes of her life. She soldiered through by politely peppering their conversation with questions before boredom got the better of her. "Sorry," she said, touching Chad's arm and completely interrupting. "Did you want to dance?"

Chad flashed her a supercilious grin. "In just a moment, darling," he hissed under his breath. With an annoyed sigh she downed the rest of her champagne and stole another flute off the tray of a passing bus boy.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

Audrey checked her phone and drained a gin and tonic. She had graduated from champagne about halfway through waiting and was now sitting off to the side. _A sad prom wallflower_. However, she had managed to have lovely conversations with an attorney from the DA's office and the Mayor's wife. There had also been quite a stir when the reclusive Bruce Wayne crashed the party. Audrey had caught a glimpse of him and, having expected someone of Quasimodo caliber, was disappointed to find he was just another boring, rich man.

Chad continued to ignore her. She squinted at the screen as she scrolled through text messages and tried to find the right thread. _Bingo!_ She pumped her fist in the air at having managed to find Beth's name. A man standing next to her furrowed his eyebrows at her and stepped away. _Maybe this wallflower has had a little too much to drink. Whoops!_

To: Beth  
_SOS. Chad is THE WORST._

Sent.

To: Audrey  
_Oh no! What's happening?_

To: Beth  
_I think Chad's under the impression that his boss is his date._

To: Audrey  
_LOL Oh my god. I'll make it up to you. Promise._

A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped, dropping her phone in the process. The body guard picked it up and handed it to her. His eyes were hypnotizing and she wondered what he looked like without the mask. She opened her mouth, but he put a finger against her lips and led her to the dance floor. Dizzy with excitement, she followed.

Music played, a beautiful classical piece, dresses swished past, and other masked couples danced all around them. _Am I Cinderella? What the hell is happening?_ She drank him in: his steady hand on her back, graceful step, his vaguely woodsy, but not overpowering, smell. She didn't even spare Chad a glance as she whirled, twirled, and tried not to step on any toes. _This is what the whole night should have been like_. She was light-headed, drunk on alcohol and attraction.

Audrey's groan at the end of the dance was lost in the clapping. Rosy cheeked and slightly sweaty, she ripped off her mask, shaking loose some of her dark hair. The body guard tucked it behind her ears before he took her face between his hands, examining it as though trying to memorize every detail.

Then he kissed her.

His lips were surprisingly soft and she could feel the scratchy beginnings of stubble on his chin. Her eyes were closed when he pulled away and when she finally opened them he had disappeared into the throng of couples.

"Oh my god," she whispered, swaying slightly as she touched her fingers to her bottom lip. A smile, the first real one of the night, lit up her face. "He's good."

_No one is going to believe this. Not in a million years._

(-)

Later, after everything went to hell, Audrey would come back to this moment again and again.


	2. One

_“Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world”_

_― W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”_  

* * *

Chapter One

For a Friday afternoon, Gotham General Hospital was slow and quiet, which was exactly how Audrey preferred it.

From the nurse's station in the Emergency Room she could hear a sportscaster talking about the upcoming football game. It was the first game of the season and against Gotham's rival, Rapid City. By evening, the waiting room would be packed with drunks and people who had gotten into fights. Not that the two were mutually exclusive. _That is not the shift I would want to be on_. No, she would be watching the game from the comfort of her own couch.

"Huh. Wasn't John Daggett at that charity gala you went to?" Beth asked, newspaper rustling as she turned the page.

Audrey looked up from the computer where she was working on a report and made a face. "Ah, yes, Chad's boss' boss. How did you know that was what I wanted to be reminded of at this exact moment?"

Beth grinned. "Hey, did he ever call you for a third date?" She held up the paper to block the pen rocketing toward her head.

Elizabeth Sawyer was Audrey's best friend and had been since the first grade. In looks and personality, they were complete opposites. Where Beth was tall with model-esque features, straight blonde haired, and green eyes, Audrey's eyes were brown, her hair curly and dark, and she had what patients often deemed a sweet, angelic face. Only the hospital staff knew the truth. It was poor Beth that was often mistaken as the intimidating one because she was shy and stunning when it was actually Audrey who had the more cynical disposition. After Audrey's return to Gotham, Beth had come to the rescue and snagged her the job at the hospital.

"No, and that was, what? A month ago? Longer? Speaking of dates- how was Saturday with Officer Blake?" Beth colored. She had been asked out several weeks ago by a charming Gotham PD officer and, though she had kept quiet about the details, Audrey couldn't resist teasing her. She held up her hands and silently counted the number of dates on her fingers. "That's- what- your sixth date now? Am I officially allowed to call him your boyfriend yet?" She grinned and spun around in her chair as a highlighter whizzed through the air.

"Audrey," interrupted an exasperated, but slightly amused voice. "Mr. Foster is asking for you."

"Aw, come on," she whined. "I've got ten minutes left on my shift, Cass."

Cassandra, the charge nurse, gave her a no-nonsense look before walking away. Audrey sighed dramatically and pushed against the desk so the chair rolled away from it. "He probably thinks he can get more pudding off of me, the dirty dog."

"Drinks after work tonight?" Beth asked.

"Ooh- no can do, buckaroo. I promised my Dad I'd watch the game with him. If you get lonely without Blake's big, strong arms to hold you, you're more than welcome to-" She ducked to avoid a flying staple remover. "Join us."

Humming to herself, and swinging the end of her stethoscope, Audrey walked down the hall. When she reached the room marked 5, she poked her head around the corner just in time to catch the ending of the National Anthem. "Hey, Mr. F." She stepped inside, conducting a quick scan of the machinery to make sure everything sounded and looked like it was supposed to. "How's she doing?"

Mrs. Foster had been admitted early that morning for a stroke. They had managed to get her stabilized but didn't want to move her until she was a little stronger.

"Hey! She's still sleeping." He grinned and winked at her. "Game's about to start. Didn't think you'd want to miss kick off before you left."

_Best part of the job_. Audrey smiled back, leaning against the wall closest to the window so she could stare at the screen where the players were lining up. "You thought right, sir."

They watched as Rapid City kicked off but Gotham caught the ball. Audrey gave a small whoop of enthusiasm as the Rogues cleared the path for him down the field while Mr. Foster cursed excitedly under his breath.

That was when the first set of explosions shook the ground beneath them. It was a force so powerful that she could actually hear the stifled boom first. All around the hospital people screamed. Someone in another room shouted about an earthquake, but Audrey watched as outside of the window a manhole erupted violently into the air.

She thought back to that morning, when a confused looking police Captain had dropped in to check on the commissioner, and her heart leapt into her throat. _Oh my god- didn't he say something about a police training in the tunnels?_ She was about to run out to check on Beth when Mr. Foster gave a startled shout and pointed at the television. Audrey's hands flew to her mouth as a string of swear words escaped her lips.

The stadium had been blown right down the middle. Out of one corner emerged a half dozen figures, clad in combat gear and toting rifles, wheeling something large, round, and metallic.

"Gotham! Take control. Take control of your city." The booming voice belonged to a hulking figure with a black mask around his head and mouth. He made a gesture to the people behind him. Audrey squinted at the screen and realized, with growing alarm, that each man was wearing a red scarf around his throat. It wasn't a fashion statement, it was an identifier. _A way to separate us from them._ A hunched, handcuffed figure was brought forward.

"Christ!" Mr. Foster whispered in a tone that scared Audrey more than what was on the television. "That's a _bomb_."

The world around her disappeared while they watched this so-called "liberator of Gotham" conduct a brief interview with the only man who could disarm the device, a man named Pavel. Audrey would never forget it for as long as she lived.

This was something that happened in war-torn countries where dictators and tyrants ruled. _Not in Gotham. Not anymore_. The thought immediately following this twisted her stomach. _My dad is watching this right now._ She ripped her eyes away from the TV as the massive monster snapped the doctor's neck.

Crisis mode kicked in. "Mr. Foster, I'm going out to see what's going on. If I don't check on you, someone else will, okay?" He nodded and as she stepped into the hall, where people were running wildly back and forth, the power went out. _What now?_ Not wanting to be alone, she sprinted down the to the nurse's station where a wide-eyed Beth was holding a dead phone in one hand.

"What's-"

The pop-pop of automatic rifle fire followed by screams cut through her words. Without thinking, Audrey hopped over the desk and pulled Beth and some man- a doctor- to the floor. "Shh!" she hissed, straining to listen. There were two more reports, these fired from something with less power, but both sounded like they were coming through the wall. Hesitantly, she peered over the desk where Cassandra was crouched down across from her. They gave each other a thumb's up and Cass scurried over as the backup generator kicked on.

"What the hell is going on?" the doctor demanded, standing up and brushing himself off.

Audrey ignored him, looking at Cass and Beth. "Long term is next door, right?"

The ward, which had gone quiet after the gunfire, was starting to come alive again. Cass nodded, unsure what she was getting at.

"They're here for Commissioner Gordon, aren't they?" Beth finally reasoned. "Who are they? What do they want?"

"Clearly, they're terrorists." The doctor seemed pleased with himself for having something useful to add. Cassandra shot him a withering look at which caused him to splutter and glance away.

"Do you think we should check on them?"

Cassandra's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "No, Miss Doctors Without Borders, we should not. This isn't a combat zone; we've got a whole hospital full of trained, competent people who can help. We're going to stay here and take care of our patients. We've got _maybe_ eight hours with the backup gen. We'll have to move the critical care patients and pray we get these people out safely."

She had kids at home, Audrey knew, and in that moment her respect for Cassandra skyrocketed.

Beth punched fruitlessly at the numbers on the phone. "The lines must have gone down in the explosion." Her eyes welled with frustrated tears as she slammed it back down. Audrey put an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be okay."

"What about your dad? Or Cass' husband and kids? What are _we_ going to do, Aud?"

The weight of that question was crushing.

"Everyone's going to be okay. We're going to get through this."

She wasn't sure she believed it.

Another doctor came running down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of them. "They just got Rapid City on the radio. They're not taking any patients until further notice. Our helicopter is grounded so we can't even air-vac anybody out." He ran his hands through his hair. "We're on fucking lockdown because they're saying these assholes have threatened to blow the city if anyone leaves."

Five faces stared blankly at one another, each trying to digest this new information. The formerly smug doctor spoke first. "Well, we get everyone out of here that we can and-"

The metallic doors burst open and three men entered, surrounding the desk. Each one was wearing a red scarf.

"Who's in charge?" The man in the middle demanded in what Audrey guessed was a Russian accent. The smug doctor cowered in the corner and Audrey saw Cass step up but she darted forward, cutting her off. She turned her head slightly, so that their eyes met, and gave her head an imperceptible shake.

"I am," declared Audrey in a voice that was braver than she felt. The Russian regarded her doubtfully and glanced back to where the doctors were standing.

He shrugged and grunted, "Fine. Bane orders we move life threatening only. You," he made a sweeping motion with his gun to indicate all of them. "Show us who. Nothing funny or we shoot."

"Deal."

(-)

"That was a dumb ass thing to do," Cass snapped as they walked, unescorted, out of the building. It had taken them two hours, but they had managed to clear the floor. Audrey, Beth, and Cassandra had all offered to help with the remaining areas but had been told in no uncertain terms to get lost.

"Because you weren't about to do the same thing? You've got kids at home, Cass."

"And you've got your daddy who's probably worried sick about you." Audrey felt her jaw clench. _Low blow_.

Beth, who had sensed this might be coming, broke in before they got nasty. "Knock it off. You're both too ballsy for your own good. We're lucky they didn't kidnap us or worse. Besides, I think both of you should have kept quiet."

Audrey rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and sighed. She didn't want to fight about this. "Well, I didn't see the doctors doing anything about it." It broke the tension. They all laughed.

When they reached the parking lot, Cass pulled them both into a fierce hug. "You girls take care of yourselves, okay? I'll see you when this whole thing is over."

Beth drove them home in silence, carefully navigating through the semi-ruined streets. Audrey's neighborhood seemed mostly untouched by the chaos although they'd had to swerve around a gaping man hole.

"You're welcome to come in, you know," Audrey offered as the car came to a stop in front of her house.

Beth shook her head and blew out a long breath. "Thanks, but I want to check on my folks and see if, you know, I hear from him. Love you, Aud."

"Love you too, B," Audrey replied and watched her take off.

When the car was safely down the street, Audrey turned and trudged up the steps to the townhouse her parents had lived in since before she'd been born. The doorknob turned easily and her nose scrunched in annoyance. Her father, despite all of his anxieties, _never_ locked the front door when he was home. It was always her job to do that before they turned in for the night.

She was immediately greeted by a plump, wiggly fawn colored pug. Lobelia had been her parents' way to battle empty nest syndrome. With her fickle personality, which had not gotten better with age, she fit the Tolkien character she had been named for. Audrey reached down and gave her a good scratch behind the ear to calm her down. "Dad?" she called.

The television glowed vividly in the quickly dimming evening light. Audrey followed the sound to the living room where her father, Alexander Campbell, was camped out on the couch. His eyes flicked up and relief washed over his face. He leapt up, not an easy feat for such a big man, and engulfed her in a bone crushing hug. When he released her, he swiped under his eyes.

"I'm glad you're okay, kiddo. I was watching the game and now-" he pointed at the flat screen which was broadcasting the speech from the stadium again.

"I know. I'm glad you're okay too. Did you-"

Alex held up a hand, his focus on the screen behind her. The coverage had shifted to a live reporter who was standing outside the hospital. Audrey groaned and collapsed on the couch. _So much for not telling him about that part._ He sat next to her, eyebrows furrowing as he turned up the volume.

"We have received reports that five people are confirmed dead after the occupation of Gotham General Hospital late this afternoon following the events at Gotham Stadium." The station cut to grainy cellphone footage showed men with guns running into the facility. _Animals_. She knew he was looking at her, but kept her gaze trained on the screen. The camera shifted back to the reporter. "Commissioner Gordon is still listed as missing despite a statement issued by the hospital that everyone has been safely evacuated from the facility."

Finally, she turned to face him. "Okay, before you say _anything_ , it really wasn't -"

"You're not going back there, are you?" His tone was more plea than demand.

"I mean, no, it's shut down, but Dad, come on. I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing while a bunch of… radical assholes take over the city. People are going to get hurt. They're going to need help."

"Who? Who's going to need help? They've got the police trapped and they've given the detonator to someone in the city-"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I doubt they just handed some idiot a trigger to a nuclear bomb. And there are going to be people left on the streets that are going to want to fight back." _At least, I hope there are_.

Alex's shoulders slumped. "You're as stubborn as your mother was. Look, Audrey, you don't have to fight all the time. Some battles are too big for one person." She chewed her lower lip and said nothing. There was no way to make him understand that she wasn't fighting, she was helping. Healing. He sighed. "What about a compromise? I'm going to St. Swithin's tomorrow. We can talk to Reilly about setting something up for the boys but I'm sure he'll open it up to whoever needs shelter."

And, for the second time that day, Audrey found herself uttering the words, "Deal."


	3. Two

_“Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.”_

_― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man_

 

* * *

Chapter Two

“‘I’ll blow the conch,’ said Ralph breathlessly, ‘and call an assembly.’  
‘We shan’t hear it.’”

A loud, drawn out “oh” came from the back of the room causing scattered laughter among the circle of boys sitting in front of Audrey. She looked up from the book she was reading from, shaking her head at the older boys who had caused the commotion.

“Okay,” she said, closing the pages around her index finger and leaning forward. “Let’s talk about that. Ralph’s losing control of the others, but why? What’s Jack got that Ralph doesn’t?”

It was silent while some of them pondered it and others goofed around.

“Food?” one voice suggested.

“Yo, if Ralph’s crew got really hungry they could just eat Piggy,” joked someone else, causing more laughter.

“That’s half the squad, idiot,” the first boy snapped back as he jostled the jokester. The boy blushed, but shrugged it off.

“No rules.” Carlos, the ringleader of the older boys spoke up. “They’re, like, really losing it, huh, Miss A?”

A murmur of agreement went through the group.

“You think they’re bad now?” she asked with a knowing half-smile as she reopened the book. “Wait until the end of the chapter.”

The reading group had formed on accident. A small lending library had been set up for the boys, but Audrey, finding herself in a rare moment of solitude, had decided to take advantage of it. She’d just started _Where the Red Fern Grows_ when one of the younger kids had approached her and asked her what she was reading. Annoyed by his barrage of questions, she’d offered to read it out loud to him. To her surprise, he had eagerly agreed and since then she had managed to amass a small army of boys.

Carlos and his friends had initially shown up to mock the younger kids, but there had not been a dry eye in the room when they had finished reading the tale of Billy, Old Dan, and Little Ann.

Now they were almost done with _Lord of the Flies_. Father Reilly had worried that it might be too heavy for them, that it might have hit a little too close to home, but it seemed to be going over successfully.

They concluded, much to the outrage of some, with Simon’s death.

“Aw!”

“Come on!”

“Just one more chapter?”

Audrey got up from the chair she had been sitting in, putting the book on top of the shelf. “Nope. You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow.” She watched them all file out of the room, talking and shoving each other.

All but one.

Mark stood by the door, hands shoved in his pockets. “What’s up, buddy?”

“Do- do you think they really didn’t know it was Simon?”

“Well… it was pretty convenient for Jack that the only person who could tell everybody he was wrong about the beast is dead. As for the other boys… I think it was easy to get caught up in the crazy. Once you’re there, it’s pretty hard to tell friend from enemy.”

Mark’s face became too serious for an 11-year-old. “Like that lady from yesterday?”

Audrey bit her lower lip, nervously shifting her feet. _Ah, kid_. The woman he was talking about had managed to escape captivity only to be attacked again on the street and that they’d had to pretty much put together themselves. She had been found wandering around in front of the orphanage, muttering to herself, and looking frazzled. Until Audrey and Beth had managed to calm her down (which really meant sedating her), she had been unapproachable and inconsolable, alternating between sobbing and shrieking.

She was the worst case they had seen so far, but her story was not uncommon.

“You saw that, huh?” He nodded, looking down at his shoes. Surprising herself, she slung an arm around his shoulder and was pleased when he leaned into her. “She just-” Audrey paused. She didn’t want to lie to him- kids were surprisingly good at picking out liars, but how did she explain something like that? “Some really bad stuff happened to her and it’s going to take her a while to work through it.”

“It’s kinda like the island out there, isn’t it?” His voice was quiet.

“It is,” she admitted. Maybe Father Reilly had been right about the book being too much after all. _You can’t shelter them forever. Especially not these boys._ “She’s safe here, though. Just like you guys and everybody else who’s been coming in.”

“You think?” he asked, peering up at her.

“Nah, I know.”

He gave her a squeeze around the middle, looking around first to make sure no one else could see him. “Thanks, Miss A.”

She squeezed back and then watched as he took off down the hall, stomach twisting in knots. _So maybe they’re not good at catching **all** liars. _ She caught sight of the book again. Mark had definitely hit the nail on the head.

Gotham was absolutely becoming the island.

St. Swithin’s was now doubling as a sanctuary for those in need of it and, while that presented its own set of challenges, it gave them a surprising amount of information about the outside world. The city still had access to cable, but it only played news coverage of the situation, a lot of it was wildly inaccurate or repetitive. Bane’s speeches, from the football stadium and when he had released the convicts from Blackgate prison, received so much air time that Audrey thought she might know them by heart.

What they weren’t covering was the terror and fear that had fallen over the city. The wealthy were being hunted down like animals and, if they weren’t murdered on sight, they were being dragged into a mockery of a court. Sentenced without trial. As were those who were suspected of helping the police. Folks hid in their houses, too scared to venture out because Bane’s people seemed to patrol every corner and because there were criminals lurking in the shadows.

“You never wanted to be a teacher?” John Blake asked from the doorway, startling her out of her reverie.

“Me? God, no.” She shuddered. “Kids are great in small doses, but if I had to deal with them all day, every day? They’re way less cute.”

“I don’t know- I think you’d be good at it.”

“I think _you’re_ confusing me with Beth. She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Ha!” John laughed. “Don’t I know it?” He moved like he was going to leave and then spun around again. “Oh,” he said as though he remembered why he’d come to see her. “They’re calling a meeting in Father Reilly’s office.”

Audrey ran a hand through her hair, heaving a sigh as she did so. _No rest for the wicked_.

Father Reilly's office was in a corner of the building that had affectionately been nicknamed "The War Room". Despite the somewhat cramped quarters, it had a cozy air about it. By the time Audrey creaked the door open, the council, comprised of Father Reilly, her father, Beth, and Blake, were already gathered around a battered oak desk that had clearly seen better days.

She gave a quick wave and stood just behind the chair Beth was sitting in. Father Reilly gave her a nod of acknowledgment and continued the speech he had been in the middle of. “What it comes down to is this: winter is coming and we’re going to need medicine. The boys are already starting to get sick and I imagine that as more people come to us seeking shelter, that number will only increase. We’ll get some supplies from the outside but it won’t be enough.”

“Isn’t there a pharmacy a couple blocks from here?” Beth asked. Father Reilly nodded and she brightened. “Problem solved. We send someone to check it out and see if there’s anything worthwhile left to bring back.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Father Reilly considered this. “That’s a great idea, but leaves us with another problem: who do we send?” Here he gave Audrey a pointed look, but it was too late.

“I’ll go,” John and Audrey offered in unison.

“It should be me,” said John. “I’m the one with the gun. I can be in and out of there in an hour, no problem.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Except free police officers have a target on their back the size of the city and, no offense, but you don’t exactly project regular guy.” She shook her head. “It would be way too risky and you’re kind of a bad ass around here. They- _we_ can’t afford to lose you. Besides, the person that goes needs to know what they’re looking for. It’s not going to do anyone any good if we end up with a bunch of birth control instead of antibiotics.” From where she was standing, she could feel the anger radiating off of her father. _Oh am I going to hear it._

John looked around the room for support. Beth bit her lip. “She’s right. The person that goes should probably have some kind of medical experience.”

The silence following this was deafening.

Finally, Alex spoke. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Dad-” Audrey began, but faltered when she met his eye. On his face was an expression she had not seen in years: anger. _You’re thirty, not thirteen,_ she reminded herself. She cleared her throat. “We’ll put it to a vote, then. All in favor of John going.”

Only Alex and John raised their hands. All of them looked at Father Reilly who shrugged. “I’m voting in the best interest of the boys and the people who are under our care.” Audrey tried to suppress the warm glow of smugness that bloomed in her chest. Father Reilly walked around to a closet and produced a pistol and box of ammunition from a locked safe. “If it makes you feel better, Alexander, Audrey can take this with her.”

Alex said nothing, just stood up and exited the room leaving another awkward silence in his wake.

Beth patted Audrey’s arm. “He’ll come around.”

“Yeah.” She smiled and put a hand over Beth’s before looking over at John. “No hard feelings, Blake?”

He snorted and she knew they were okay. “You know how to use that thing?”

Father Reilly handed her the pistol. The cool metal in her hand made her whole body tingle. It felt dangerous. Real. She pointed it at the floor, finger as far from the trigger as humanly possible. “You just point and shoot, right?” she asked, with a wink.

Beth rolled her eyes, exasperated, as John laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”

(-)

She rummaged through her backpack, dumping out everything that would be useless, which was turning out to be most of it.

A knock on the door made her jump. She chuckled at her own uneasiness, trying to play it off like she hadn’t been scared as Beth poked her head in. “Aud? You okay?”

She straightened up and ran a hand through her hair as Beth stepped inside. “Yeah. Little nervous, but it’s going to be fine. I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.

The blonde pulled her into a hug and slipped a piece of paper into Audrey’s back pocket. “I put that together to help you out while you’re in there. If it were me I’d blank the second I was out the door. But we both know I’m a big baby.”

Audrey gave her an extra squeeze and pulled back. “The biggest baby I know.”

“Be careful out there, okay?”

“I will. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Audrey teased, reaching out to pinch her cheek and ruffle her hair.

Beth rolled her eyes and pushed Audrey’s hand away. “You’re such an ass. Get out of here!” Audrey slung the bag over her shoulder and blew Beth a kiss.

There was only one thing left for her to do.

She stood outside of Father Reilly’s office, a knot of anticipation building in her belly. Alex was in there, probably pretending to do paperwork. Audrey hesitated, took a deep breath, and then pushed the door open. As predicted, he was bent over and scribbling furiously. “Dad?”

He looked up, gave her a once over, and then looked back down at the stack. “What?” _Oh, boy_. She was going to have to work for it.

“I- uh- I was just going to head out. Wanted to say bye.”

He stopped writing. “Bye, then.”

The shortness of his response caused her to bristle. “Dad, I’m-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry, Audrey. I don’t want to hear it.” The disappointment in his voice hurt worse than any admonishment. It really did feel like she was thirteen again. He ran a hand over his face. “We’ll talk about it when you get back. I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	4. Three

_“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”_  
_  
―_ _Jane Austen,_ Pride and Prejudice

 

* * *

 

Chapter Three

Cold seeped into every part of Audrey's being as she opened her black backpack and used a flashlight to sort through the different medicines on the pharmacy shelves. She burrowed further into the brown scarf wrapped around the lower portion of her face as she squinted to read expiration dates. The drugs they could use she dropped in the backpack, pills rattling in their white and orange bottles. Every so often she would stop and listen before resuming her task.

The pharmacy had been heavily picked over but clearly not by anybody with a medical background. Just junkies looking for a fix, probably. This was not a surprise.

The walk over had been an eye-opening one. Going strictly from Point A to Point B meant she saw the same things day in, day out. Though they weren’t exactly on the fringes of the city, the Boy’s Home was more sheltered than she thought. The terror that held the city in its grip was worse than she could have imagined. The further she had gone into the heart of it, the worse things had become.

She saw houses with windows that were boarded or covered by newspaper or sheets, cans above doorways to alert the people within to potential intruders, and very few people on the streets. Some houses had just looked empty, others were not so lucky. She had passed by the splintered door of one of the bigger, more expensive townhomes within the city where giant, sinister looking maroon puddles covered the concrete steps leading up to it. _Stop thinking about it,_ she chastised herself. _You knew what the situation was going to be like. Bleak_. It didn’t bolster her spirits, but it did help her to keep her focus on the task at hand.

Satisfied with her haul, and having reached her capacity for unease, she zipped up the bag and weaved her way through the maze of tipped shelves. The floor was a sea of empty bottles and loose pills that she was careful not to crunch or kick. Sunlight was a welcome relief as Audrey hopped out of the broken storefront window. She turned her face up and let it warm her before beginning her trek, excited to get back to St. Swithin's.

Then she heard a shriek and a gunshot.

It had come from an alleyway a few feet in front of her. She froze, mid-step, not sure whether to run forward or away. Her self-preservation instinct told her to flee, that it wasn’t worth getting involved in. _You have a duty_ , the medical professional in her hissed nastily.

“Which doesn’t require putting yourself in harm’s way,” she whispered to herself. She thought again of the raided home she had passed. “Don’t be stupid.” She turned, ready to walk away from the scene when another sound caught her attention.

"MOMMY!" a small voice, desperate and frightened, shrieked from around the corner.

_Ignore it. It's probably a trap. Ignore it,_ Audrey commanded herself, turning away again.

"MOMMY! MOMMY! DADDY!"

The faces of the boys at St. Swithin’s flashed before her; she wouldn’t have abandoned one of them and she wasn’t going to desert this kid either. She turned the corner, crouching low as she did so, to hide behind the side of a dumpster. Carefully, she peeked around to see what was happening.

Two men were standing under a fire escape. The shorter, burlier of the two was leafing through a stack of money. "Keep that brat quiet," he snarled to the taller man. The hint of a red scarf under tall man's gear identified him as one of Bane's mercenary crowd _._ A small boy, who couldn't have been older than six, was struggling in his arms while a woman lay unmoving on the ground. "How much you think this dumb broad was worth anyway?" the beefy guy laughed. Judging by her bulky, expensive looking fur coat and the child’s own state of warm dress, Audrey imagined it had probably been quite a bit.

The other man said nothing, choosing instead to take quick surveillance of their surroundings. He had a sleepy look about him, but his eyes were attentive in their sweep. _Eagle eyes._ Those were eyes that didn't miss a thing and they were moving in her direction. _Damnit, idiot, duck!_ She pressed herself against the wall, hoping she hadn't been seen, fumbling for a moment before extracting the pistol from the back of her waistband.

In and out before she was missed, right?

_Sorry, Dad._

She took a silent, steadying breath before walking out from her hiding spot, gun pointed at Eagle Eye.

"Let him go." The words came out smoother and bolder than she had thought they would.

Both men released what they were holding and remained motionless. Money fluttered to the ground while the boy looked at Audrey in awe and confusion, his tears stopping abruptly. She knew what a sight she must make: a petite woman with what people were constantly telling her was a sweet face and kind eyes holding up two thugs. If it hadn't been happening to her, it would have been laughable.

But the magic of the moment wasn't going to hold forever.

"RUN, KID!" she shouted.

Even in his grief-stricken state he didn't need to be told twice. _Good job, buddy,_ she thought as he took off at full speed. A terrible, roaring sound echoed in the alley. Beefy was running at her and, without thinking, she stepped out of his path, sticking a foot out as she did so. He tripped, chin hitting the pavement with a hard crack. A horribly timed giggle escaped her mouth as she turned and sprinted. Heavy footsteps followed but she had the advantage.

Until she looked back.

It was an amateur mistake: one that began with Lot's wife and had managed to span the test of time. How many times had Audrey made fun of characters in horror movies for doing the same thing and getting themselves killed?

" _See?" she said, waving her hand at the TV screen where a blonde teenaged girl had just tripped over a tree root. "If she had been paying attention to what was in front of her, she'd still be alive. A tree root! That was her downfall." She snorted._

_"Okay, Smarty Pants," Beth joked. "You think you would survive? You wouldn't want to look back to see where they were? Not even once?"_

_"Not even once."_

It was not a tree root, but the laces of her left shoe that caused her ruin. When, and how, they had come undone would forever be a mystery. All she knew was that one moment she was sprinting and the next she was crashing toward the ground. She flung her hands out to brace herself, but her wrists buckled under her on impact. There was just enough time to turn her face before she made contact with the unforgiving cement.

_This is it,_ she had time to think. _This is how I die_.

She lay there, trying to come to terms with that fact. There was no point in getting up. She could hear the crunch of gravel as they caught up to her. The impact obviously wouldn’t have killed her, but she couldn’t say the same for the men. Especially Beefy. While she couldn’t imagine that any of Bane’s men liked to be held at gun point, it had to be especially embarrassing to be him right now.

Someone roughly pull her into a sitting position. A wave of curly chestnut hair spilled out from under the jacket hood, covering her shoulders and face. As she looked up a wave of nausea rolled over her. Briefly, she wondered if she had a concussion. _Chances are highly likely_. Eagle Eye had a firm grip on one of her shoulders. With his free hand he held the backpack.

"You _stupid bitch_!" Beefy's chin was busted and freely bleeding. He jammed the barrel of a gun, _MY gun_ , she realized, against her cheek. There was a sharp, pinching pain as he ground it in a little. _Click_. "I should kill you right here."

A rhyme from college came back to her: _Gunshot to the head, you're dead. Bullet in the mouth, you bleed out._ It was not a comforting thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and still found herself hoping that it was quick and painless.

"Maybe we should see what she's got first. Check the bag." It was the first time she had heard Eagle Eye's voice. It was quiet, but firm, with the hint of an accent that might have been British.

"The fuck does it matter, Barsad?"

It turned out to be a rhetorical question. Beefy was clearly lower on whatever totem pole the hired killers operated on and relief flooded Audrey's body as he lowered the weapon. She opened her eyes and watched them dig through the medicine she had worked so hard to collect. Beefy whistled.

"What are you doing with all of this?" Eagle Eye, _Barsad_ , asked her. _That can’t be his real name_. He looked familiar, but her head hurt and she needed to concentrate on getting out of this. If there was a getting out of this.

"I was going to sell it," she said. A stupid, well-rehearsed lie. "A bunch of junkies live outside of the apartment I'm in. I figured I could use it to get them to leave me alone."

Barsad released her to inspect the contents for himself. She briefly entertained the idea of running, but her head and heart were pounding and everything had a blurred quality to it. Instead she watched as he pulled one of the bottles out, intently studying the label. He frowned, looked at her, and then back at the label. Her stomach sank. She hadn’t counted on anyone being smart enough to conduct a thorough inspection. Clearly this guy was not a run of the mill hired hand.

Squatting in front of her, he held up a bottle of Penicillin. "You were going to give this to addicts? How stupid do you think they are?" The intensity of his gaze, as his eyes locked onto hers, made her want to squirm, but she remained still and silent. He was, she decided, probably as good at sniffing out fear as he was lies.

The other man tapped his foot, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Let's just shoot her and be done with it."

His gaze did not waver as he stood back up. "No, Pence, let's take her to court. I'd wager she's working with the rebels and Bane wants an example made of them. Crane can figure out what to do with her."

_Death_ , Audrey thought, _would be kinder_.

Pence, obviously tired of whatever game was being played, decided enough was enough. “This one? A rebel? Don’t make me laugh.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Look at her.” That sparked a lively argument between the two giving Audrey a chance to think.

At least now she knew the rumors were true. Not that knowing helped; not when what lay ahead was likely some kind of gross torture or God only knew what other horrors. She thought of her father. She had to be tough, not stupid.

"Okay, you're right." The men stopped bickering. "I'm a nurse. I've been working with some other volunteers to help people- children in this part of the city." She did not feel it necessary to mention the police or the name of the orphanage.

"Why lie?"

"Didn't count on you going through the bag. Figured you'd be more likely to let me go if I seemed like one of you. I've got people to protect, you understand."

That serious stare was back on her and the silence following her statement bordered on painful. This was her fate being decided after all. _Please believe me._

Finally, she was hoisted on to shaky feet.

"We'll let Bane decide," he announced. His companion grunted, but put up no further fight. "Our operation could use more medical help," a voice whispered in her ear. “No promises.” She gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment wondering why Barsad was trying to help her- _if_ that was what he was doing. A small buoy of hope rose in her chest.

As he jerked her along, he spoke again, louder. "If you try to run," he warned, not bothering to look at her. "I _will_ shoot you." The buoy sank. Pence, who had been leading the way, turned around and grinned at her.

It was not, she decided, a theory she would be testing any time soon.


	5. Four

_“I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate.”_

_― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief_

* * *

 

Chapter Four

Icy wind picked up as they trekked silently through the streets. Audrey’s head ached worse than before and she began to feel a stinging sensation in her hands and knees. She looked around to distract herself, taking in the ruin: broken windows, the remnants of where looters had struck; heaps of burnt finery; damaged vehicles- how had this happened in such a short period of time?

Once, while working with a medical team in South Sudan, she had been witness to the direct aftermath of the armed conflict they were constantly warned about. The villagers, in the wake of such devastation, had displayed great, moving grief and stoicism. Survivors came together to move on, even though they had known it could happen again.

Gotham was a ghost town in comparison. There was no one around to mourn its destruction or to piece it back together.

Being pulled to a stop forced her back to reality. In front of them loomed an ornate old building. Even from where they stood, wild screams and cheering could be heard within. Pence pulled the door open and they stepped inside Crane’s court.

She had never seen anything like it.

The first thing they encountered was a sort of prison made of wire fencing filled with people. Posted at the entrance and on the other side of the gate were guards with weapons. Some of the prisoners sat, eyes glazed over with a kind of numb acceptance, while others shouted at the men guarding them, at the crowd, at whoever would listen to them. One bold man stuck his hand out of the wire and was rewarded with the butt of a gun to his fingers. Audrey’s own fingers twinged in sympathy.

She felt the stares of those watching with sympathy and envy as Barsad pulled her forward. One of the guards by the fencing nodded at Barsad and Pence before allowing them through.

As they moved along the edge of the crowd, she noticed people from all walks of life gathered around something in the middle of the room. At least that was what it looked like, at first. Panic gripped her as she realized that some of the people she had mistaken as “wealthy” were, in fact, just dressed that way. Every eye in the room had the same feverish glint- these were people out for blood.

Presiding over it all was Jonathan Crane, a twisted fairy-tale figure she had only ever glimpsed on TV brought to life. Smug and slightly manic, he sat at an improvised court bench. Though not the most notorious of Gotham’s criminal element, Audrey had heard some of the horror stories, during her residency, of things that had taken place in Arkham Asylum. Staff loved to gossip about the patients who had been under Crane’s care and what happened to them when they’d been brought in after his apprehension.

He had gone a little gray around the temples, but he didn’t look any less dangerous. Or insane. His eyes roamed the court room and she shuddered as they passed over her.

Her gaze shifted to the chair in the middle of the room. A man sat in it with two more men on either side of him to prevent him from fleeing. She strained to see who it was. When she got a clear view it felt as though someone had sucker punched her.

“Chad Hearst!” Crane called out. “You sit before the people of Gotham on charges of corruption and exploitation.”

Chad was looking wildly around the court room for help. He briefly locked eyes with her and the pleading expression on his face made something in her chest tighten. _No one deserves this._

“I didn’t do this! Please!”

Though she knew better, it felt as though he was speaking to her and her alone. His cries were met with jeers and deafening laughter.

Audrey stepped forward, unaware that she had not been moving for some time, and was met with resistance. She whipped around and glared at Barsad who seemed indifferent to the chaos. “I know him! I have to help!” The mercenary’s grip tightened in response.

Crane banged his gavel until there were nothing more than scattered murmurs. “You’ve already been found guilty, Mr. Hearst.” He rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had explained this concept more than once. His audience burst into a cacophony of laughter that made Audrey sick to her stomach. “Now,” he began, in a more business-like tone. “Which do you choose: exile or death?”

Chad’s sobbing reply was lost in the din of people screaming for both options.

“Death!” Crane exclaimed, gleefully banging the gavel. Chad began thrashing frantically as the man standing to the left brought his gun to Chad’s head. There was a sound like a car backfiring and Chad’s body slumped in the seat, a trail of deep crimson pouring from the side of his head.

Her ears rang as she stood there, frozen in shock. _They shot him_. _They just shot him_. Angry, hot tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them away. _No crying. Not now_.

There was a second explosion; this one of excitement from the mob as his body was dragged unceremoniously away from the scene and the next name was called. Barsad tugged her arm, signaling it was time to go.

(-)

Never before had she felt so utterly small. Before she had thought Pence bulky and Barsad tall, but both seemed tiny in comparison. Without the mask, Bane would have been scary, and even at a distance she could tell that he towered over them all. To say she was terrified would have been an understatement, but something else stirred inside her at the sight of him: anger.

Pence, who had been full of scathing remarks and bravado until this point, appeared nervous. Barsad, however, remained unfazed. He passed Audrey off to his companion, spoke to his leader at length, and then motioned for them to follow.

She kept her eyes to the ground, not wanting to catch another look into whatever circle of Hell she had stumbled into. As the doors closed behind them, she felt like she could breathe again. The cold air felt good against the warmth of her face and the relative quiet of the outside was a relief.

“Step forward,” Bane commanded. Fear kept her stationary. She willed her feet to move, but they remained rooted to the ground. When Pence roughly shoved her in front of the beastly man she was almost grateful. “Your name?”

“Audrey. Audrey Campbell.”

“Barsad tells me you’re a nurse.” The deep, faintly mechanical voice had a falsely soothing, cadential quality to it.

She raised her gaze to meet his, unwilling to seem meek in front of him. Immediately she had to fight the urge to look away. Somehow his eyes managed to be both cold and expressive. What scared her the most was that there was no mercy in them.

“I am,” she confirmed. “For about 7 years now.” He just watched her. She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’re understaffed medically. Most Gotham doctors and nurses won’t come near you or your men, they’ll be too scared.” Something in his face changed and she knew she had been on the money. This bolstered her confidence. “I can help. I used to work with Doctors Without Borders and I’ve dealt with combat wounds before.”

_The world’s deadliest job interview. If I get through this maybe I can find a way to get home._ To ease her nerves, she fixed her attention on his mask. She had seen something like it before, she realized. In India there had been a hospital that had boasted of fashioning a mask to anaesthetize a patient, essentially allowing them to function through normally crippling amounts of pain. If even one element were to stop functioning properly, he would be in agony beyond belief. _I hope it happens_ , she thought savagely.

Bane stared at her, scrutinizing her. “You will do.” She fought an urge to bow, knowing the gesture would go _very_ unappreciated. He turned to Barsad and clapped an enormous hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’s your responsibility now, brother.” The mercenary nodded and a look passed between them that she could not read.

It was then that her brain finally made the connection as to why Barsad looked so familiar. He’d been at the football stadium when Bane had killed Dr. Pavel and delivered his grandiose speech; and again when they had released the Blackgate prisoners. _Boy, you couldn’t just leave it at mercenary capture. Oh no, not dramatic enough. It had to be his right hand man. You set him off and you’re as good as dead._ She gave her head a small shake to clear her thoughts. She had survived this far and would continue to do so; death was not an option.

“As for you,” he rounded on Pence. “You’ve been greedy. I warned you what would happen.”

He made a gesture with one hand and Barsad pulled out a pistol, firing two quick rounds.

That was it: no drama, no build up, no ceremony.

The shots echoed in the empty street. Audrey flinched at the noise.

_Good_ , she thought, watching as the body collapsed in a heap on the steps. Almost immediately she was overwhelmed by guilt. _He wasn’t a good man_ , she reminded herself. It was a stupid justification, but it helped.

Barsad shook her out her trance just in time for her to watch Bane trudge back inside.

“Barsad…” she began, eyes searching his. He took her by the arm and turned her around, steering her forward.

They kept up the silence all the way to the high-rise tower of luxury apartments. Judging by the lavish lobby, it was a former stomping ground of Gotham’s elite. Now it was ransacked, tables overturned, mirrors smashed; the living quarters of Bane’s militia.

The penthouse that was to be her new home seemed to have been untouched in the pandemonium. Once they were inside, and the door closed, her body tensed. _What next?_ As if reading her mind, Barsad directed her into the living room area and motioned for her to sit on the couch. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her torso as if it were enough to hold her together.

“You’ll start work tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen. Your room is the one at that end of the hall.” He pointed to the left. “My room is on the opposite end. The door is always locked.” Here he gave her a look, as if to say, _so don’t try anything_. “I have duties that may keep me away for longer periods of time, but there will always be someone-”

“What’s the point of all of this?” she interrupted, frustration leaking into the question.

“You were right. We need more medical staff.”

“What’s the point if you’re just going to kill your own people?”

“We’re a well-organized group; Pence was… not disciplined nor was he an original part of our operation. Those who are not willing to fall into line are dispensable.”

He was so calm, so seemingly unflappable about this whole thing, that it only stood to infuriate her more.

“So, what? You just go around kidnapping people to get them to help your stupid cause? Which I don’t believe in at all, by the way. Give the people Gotham back before you blow it up? Ha!” Her laughter was harsh, even to her own ears. “Look what they’ve done with it! If you thought it was rotten before… congratulations! I hope Bane’s really happy with what’s he accomplished.”

“I imagine he is.”

She bit her lip, not trusting herself to say anything more. Without bothering to spare him another glance, she stormed off into the bedroom he had assigned her. _My room_. She shut the door and let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

Images of the people inside Crane’s court room, of Chad, and of Pence standing over that woman, counting money that no longer mattered, came rushing at her. Her mouth tasted metallic, like old blood, and she had to choke back a warm surge of vomit.

The murky evening left the room in shadow, but she kept the light off. All strength drained from her, she opted to crawl into the bed and pull the comforter tightly around herself. She didn’t want to do anymore reflecting. She wanted to pretend she was in her own bed, where she would wake up in the morning and laugh at how stupid this whole nightmare had been.

It was then the tears started. Weeping quickly gave way to full, quiet sobs as anger, fear, sadness, and the other emotions she had managed to repress all day began to bubble up. She thought of her father, already so fragile, and how worried he must be. She would find a way to get back to him before detonation. _I have to_.

Eventually the sobs turned to sniffles and, as the window of gray was enveloped by the comforting black of night, Audrey drifted off to sleep.


	6. Five

_“You are strong, but there is a flaw in your strength, and unless you learn to control it the flaw will prove stronger than your strength and defeat you. The flaw? Explosive emotional reaction out of all proportion to the occasion.”_  
  
_― Truman Capote, In Cold Blood_

* * *

 

Chapter Five

It was quiet when Audrey awoke, covered in sweat, mouth dry. Weak sunlight filtered through gauzy white curtains, illuminating the foreign bedroom.

Even in sleep, she had not been able to escape her situation. All night she had been plagued by terrible visions of Beth, her Dad, and others being dragged in front of Crane’s court only to be executed in front of her. And Mark. Mark had been standing in front of her, staring accusingly as she tried to break free of her restraints to help. As if summoned by the dreams, yesterday's events tried to replay themselves, but she refused to let them.

She rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, one of her feet brushing against something on the floor. It was a bottle of water. Weird. She didn't remember it being there but hadn't really bothered to look around the room either. She twisted the cap and was relieved when it resisted. The coolness was soothing to her throat and she felt a little more awake. _I've got to get out of here._  Unsure of whether she meant the room or the situation, she gathered a throw blanket and draped it around herself.

The door creaked as it opened and she winced.  _So much for the element of surprise_. However, there was no one in the hallway. Or in the cavernous living room. Or in the kitchen. Or the bathrooms. Or in the office. There were more rooms in this apartment than her parents’ house. She looked down the hall to the master bedroom, but the door was shut. Taking care not to make too much noise, she pressed her ear against it. Silence.

Her heart pounded, exhilaration bubbling in the pit of her stomach and radiating out to the rest of her body.  _No way. Too easy._  But what if? She walked to the entry way with control. Her hand reached out, the knob cool and metallic under her sweaty palm. It turned easily.

" _But there will always be someone."_

It was as if he had whispered it in her ear. She jerked her hand away as though it had been burned. Of course the building would be crawling with mercenaries and who knew what other kinds of…  _villains_. The word sounded cartoony and melodramatic in her head, but that was what they were. Better to stick to the evil she knew than one she did not. He might be daunting, but Barsad had not hurt her.  _Not yet, anyway._  That was a line of thought she did not want to follow. _Back to the drawing board._

To keep herself distracted, she decided to explore the living room. The décor was minimal but expensively so. The furniture, while comfortable, looked mostly unused. Two tall, cherry wood bookcases stood to the left of the couch. Audrey ran a finger along one shelf and lamented the amount of dust gathered there. Though they were filled, top to bottom, with books they had obviously been out of use for some time. There was an unsurprising amount of "classic" literature mixed with New York Times Bestsellers, history, and self-help books. She settled on  _Frankenstein_ , a book she hadn't read since high school, before curling up on the couch.

The opening of the front door jarred her back to the real world. It hadn't taken long to get lost in the story and she found herself wondering how long she had been there. She peeked over the couch to see Barsad clad in full garb. His eyebrows raised slightly. "Good morning."

She briefly entertained the idea of running back into the second bedroom, locking the door, and never coming out.  _You're not afraid_ , she told herself. She straightened up, completely ignoring his greeting. "Do I have time to take a shower before I'm supposed to go do my… duties?" His response was a curt nod. As she rounded the corner, she could have sworn she heard an aggravated exhalation. Maybe Mr. Composure wasn't so composed after all.

The warm shower was relaxing and helped her loosen up enough to start thinking. The best course of action was to just do what was asked. The better she performed, the more likely it was that someone would let their guard down. The better the chances of escape. It was doable provided the triggerman, or woman, didn't blow the city up first.

"Okay, Aud, you've got this," she told the mirror. Though never a particularly vain person, she was shocked by the image reflected back at her. It was like looking at a ghost; her face was pale and there were dark half-circles under her eyes. A bruise peeked out from her hairline, just above her ear, where her head had made contact with the ground. She touched the spot and winced. Sore, but no blood or scabbing. That was a good sign. Her palms and forearms were scraped to hell, but nothing a little antiseptic wouldn't fix.

She threw on her old outfit and braided her hair. Feeling more herself now that she was clean and had a plan, she walked back into the living room. Barsad was sitting on the couch, leafing through the book she'd been reading. When he looked up at her, he grimaced. "I'll try to get you some new clothes today."

"Thanks." She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a more sarcastic response from leaving her mouth.  _Behave_. "I'm ready." He handed her the book which she tucked into her jacket pocket.

Armed with the knowledge that there were people staked throughout the building, she looked around as they left. "They'll catch you long before you even see them coming," the mercenary warned. Goosebumps broke out along her arms and she wondered again whether or not he was somehow telepathic.

The clinic was set up in an abandoned federal building not far from the apartment. It seemed fairly quiet apart from two bored men sitting at a desk just beyond the entrance. They stood up immediately at the sight of the newcomers.

"Well, looky here," the taller of the two said, letting out a whistle. He had black hair that matched a neatly kept beard and intense, dark eyes. The type that was ruggedly handsome and knew it. She side-eyed her jailor who looked scruffy and tired in comparison. "Two visits in one day. I'm starting to feel mighty special. What can I do for ya, Sharpshooter?" This to Barsad, the man's voice all sarcasm and Southern drawl. She much preferred Barsad's eloquent English accent. This new guy, she decided, would have a good ol' boy name like Josh or Beau.

"Miss Campbell will be helping out the Doc, Jack."  _Nailed it_. "She is to remain under surveillance at all times and not to leave the building unless accompanied by one of you or myself. Bane's orders."

When Jack's eyes fixed on Audrey he gave her a wolfish grin. "What did you do to get yourself into so much trouble, sweetheart?"

Irritated, she looked him dead in the eye and replied, "I killed a man."

He burst into laughter. The blonde guard with watery blue eyes also chuckled. They both looked to Barsad, who shrugged, and another wave of laughter followed. "Sure you did, honey. Alright, now, let's pat ya down and make sure you aren't carrying anything that could  _kill_  us."

Lips pursed, she held her arms out, looking to Barsad for help. His face was neutral, a quality that was quickly becoming irritating. Jack stood behind her, running his hands along her frame. When he paused a little too long at her chest, she asked in a voice full of syrupy sweetness, "What's the matter? Never touched a woman before?"

There was a brief pause as her well-intentioned plan exploded into a million pieces. _Well, that was stupid._ She had been cursed with a mouth that sometimes spoke before her brain could catch up. Now she tried her best to look repentant, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Jack spluttered, dropping the Good Ol’ Boy façade. The blonde man laughed harder than he had before and even the ever stoic Barsad's lips quirked into a smirk. That was a problem. She had sensed the tension between the two and knew that she had just made things a lot worse for herself. A hand went into her pocket and snatched the book out of it.

"Little spitfire, huh?" he asked, throwing it on the table where it landed splayed out, spine up. His eyes were ablaze, face a little pink as he sat back down. She had indeed struck a nerve. "You won't be needing that, _darlin'_. We'll see to it that you're plenty busy." Her teeth clenched at the condescension that dripped from his voice. "Don't you worry, Barsad, I’ll keep a real good eye on her. Andy, take her back to the Doc."

She followed the blonde man, Andy, down the hall. "Jack's a good guy, you know," he said, breaking the silence. Audrey was glad she was behind him so he couldn't see her roll her eyes.  _Okay, pal_. "He just comes on a little strong at first. He's helping me with my knife work." The hero worship in his voice was almost vomit-worthy enough to make her forget the words "knife work". Almost.

Finally, they reached an expansive area where cots and cabinets were interspersed at random. There was slightly outdated, but serviceable machinery set up around some of the cots. Sitting at a computer desk was an older man, his jet black hair tinged with silver. He stood up when he saw them. He was the first person Audrey had come across who looked genuinely friendly. His brown eyes twinkled.

"Looks like you got a new assistant, Doc. Uh…"

Audrey extended her hand, smiling. "Campbell. Audrey Campbell."

"Miss Campbell, it's a pleasure. I am Arjun Mahindra." He took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake. She felt slightly more at ease. "Andy," he turned to the blonde man. "You may go." Without needing to be told twice, Andy turned on his heel and walked off.

"Please, just call me Audrey."

He grinned at her and she returned the gesture. "Only if you call me Arjun."

"Deal."

Because there were no patients, the day was spent learning the ropes and setting up shop. It was much easier with two people than one, Arjun explained as they moved the furniture into a more functional set up. Barsad had stopped by that morning to drop off the backpack. "He told me that you seemed to know what you were doing, but I was still pleasantly surprised when I saw what you’d managed to find." They sorted out medication pausing only for lunch, delivered by Andy, while they swapped travel stories.

She hadn't thought about her father once, she realized with a jolt of remorse.

By the time Barsad came to collect her, she was exhausted but felt she had accomplished something. "Thank you for your help today. I think you'll do well here," Arjun said and Audrey beamed at the praise.

Riding the high of what had turned out to be a good day, she followed behind Barsad, lost in thoughts of what else could be accomplished. "See you tomorrow, sweetheart," cooed Jack from behind the desk. He was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up. Underneath his dirty boots was her book.

_Smug asshole_. A smiled forced itself on her face. “Goodnight.”

When they were back in the apartment, Barsad immediately turned on her. It came as no surprise as he had been exceptionally ominous on their walk. "You know, Audrey, men like Jack are not people you want to try and take the piss out of."

"What?" she scoffed, hoping to play the whole thing off like a joke. "Men who have never heard the word no before?"

It seemed that was not the appropriate response. She was really batting home runs in that department today. "Do you not take this seriously? You don't know what he's capable of so you open your mouth and immediately get on his bad side?"

She gave a very un-ladylike snort. "Meanwhile, I'm just supposed to stand there and let him paw at me? Jesus, it's not like I slapped him. I'd say I'm sorry I bruised his ego, but I'm not. I guess I’m sorry I got myself on his shit list, but he's a bully."

"I was going to take him aside and talk to him after you'd-"

Her eyes went wide, rage coursing through her body. "Oh, _I'm sorry_. I didn't know I needed  _you_  to _protect_ me. Except I wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for you, would I?" Not entirely true, she had played her own part, but she'd get the jab in where she could.

He slammed his fist against the wall behind him. "Damn it, Rebecca!”

_Rebecca?_ Confusion momentarily muddled her anger so much so that her head tilted slightly to one side. “Who’s Rebecca?”

He reeled back like he’d been hit, face flushed. “It doesn’t matter. This is not a fucking game."

The rage returned full force, hands curling at her sides. "I'm not treating it like one! And I'm not sure why you're upset about this- it's not like it matters to you if I die, does it?"

Before he could say anything else, and it seemed like he still had plenty, she stalked off to her room. This time she gave the door a satisfying, albeit immature, slam. A pile of neatly folded clothes sat on the edge of the bed. She shoved them to the floor and buried her face in the pillow, resisting the urge to scream.

A knock at the door woke her up. She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but it was dark outside. She remained silent.

"I made dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"Fine," the word was practically a snarl. "Starve."

Her stomach rumbled in protest but she couldn’t help feeling a little self-satisfied when she heard the sound of a pan being tossed into a kitchen sink.


	7. Six

_“Who does she think she is? That girl has tangled with the wrong man! No one says "no" to Gaston! Dismissed! Rejected! Publicly Humiliated! Why, it's more than I can bear.”_

_― Gaston, Walt Disney’s Beauty and the Beast_

* * *

 

Chapter Six

It was four days before they were on speaking terms again. Audrey threw herself into her work during the day and buried herself in literature at night. Her hunger strike had not been going well and she found it increasingly difficult to subsist on lunch alone. About a dozen times she had tried to sneak into the kitchen when she thought Barsad would be asleep, and every time he was sitting on the couch like some kind of kitchen guard dog. The fifth time he’d politely asked if there was anything he could get for her. Her response had been a haughty sniff and to slam the bathroom door. From behind it, she could have sworn she heard him laughing.

In an attempt to broker peace, she’d woken up on the fourth morning to find the hijacked copy of _Frankenstein_ on the coffee table, a little more banged up than before but still in decent condition.  Begrudgingly, she joined him at the ridiculously large, formal dining room table that night, taking a seat on the opposite end.

“Ah, it’s lovely to have company. Food’s always better when there’s someone to share it with,” he’d joked. She glared at him over the top of her book and he winked at her. He’d won and he knew it.

Since then they had both tread lightly for fear of disturbing their temporary truce.

_It could be worse. I could be dead. Or stuck with someone like Jack._ She considered this and then gave an involuntary shudder. Jack, after some scowling and snide commentary, had gone right back to being what he obviously thought passed for charming. In order to keep the peace, and to show Barsad she was taking him seriously, she bit her tongue and tried her best to ignore his macho man garbage.

“Hey, darlin’,” a voice said from behind her.

Audrey jumped and smashed into the cabinet she had been rifling through. Plastic and glass shook on the metal shelves. Several bottles fell to the floor, liquid sloshing and pills clattering as they rolled around. One bottle burst open scattering little white tablets everywhere. “Whoa, easy now.” Her body prickled with irritation. She was a person, not a horse. _And **I’ll** probably have to clean that up_.

She turned and scowled at him. “Jesus! You scared me!”

Jack laughed. “Sorry, honey.” The muscles in her cheek twitched. “You’d’a noticed if you didn’t have your head in the clouds all the damn time.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, drawing herself up to full height, which was at least a foot shorter than he was. “Did you need help with something?”

“No, but I think they’re gonna.” He motioned to where two men were being led in by a very harassed looking Andy and man who looked like he would have liked to be anywhere else. They were both bleeding, but laughing boisterously. She groaned, watching as they were deposited on separate cots. _Drunks. My favorite._

Arjun bustled out from behind the computer and Audrey joined him. “Hey, Doc,” the sober one greeted. “These assholes banged themselves up pretty good. Andy cleared ‘em when we got in so they’re mostly harmless.” He glanced at Audrey. “Might want to watch yourself, though. They’re liable to get handsy. That one,” he jerked his head indicating the man on the left who was tickling Andy’s ear. “Has a nasty temper.”

“He’s all yours, Arjun,” she snickered.

The overpowering stench of stale alcohol radiated off him in pungent, sour waves. His eyes were bloodshot and he was bleeding from a cut at his hairline. A cursory glance told her it looked nastier than it was. Head wounds were always bleeders.

“My lucky day. I get the pretty one,” the guy slurred.

“You’d better not let the Doctor hear you say that. You bleeding from anywhere else?” He swayed slightly, feeling around his torso and she caught sight of his left hand. Between the thumb and forefinger was a deep laceration. She took it and held it closer for inspection. “This is going to need stitches.”

He gasped dramatically and pulled his hand back, cradling it against his chest, and whispering to it that everything was going to be okay. She had to turn away to stop herself from giggling in his face.

This was what the people of Gotham were afraid of.

When she managed to compose herself, she plucked some gauze off the table and pressed it to his forehead. “Talk to me, Goose. Where are you from?”

She worked as he talked, plying him with question after question. It kept him distracted long enough to bandage his head and get him stitched up. She discovered his name was Dylan, that he was 25, from Ann Arbor, and that he liked pretty girls, dogs, MMA, and Keystone Light - in that order.

“So, I came to Gotham because I heard there was work out here. Turned out that was a bunch of bullshit.” He hiccupped. “Then I heard about the underground stuff so here I am.”

“Bane’s underground stuff?”

“Yeah- the bombs and whatnot. Not the greatest work, but it fed me, put a roof over my head. Pretty good for a guy who had nothing.” With his free hand, he gently patted the cot. “You know, you’re really nice. Like way too nice for this place, you know what I’m saying?” He waved his arm around with a sloppy, drunk grin. “What’s someone like you doing here?”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” She finished up the last suture and released his hand. “Alright, you’re all done.”

He held it out, moving it back and forth slowly. “Whoa. I didn’t even know you were doing it. You’re good.” His face and voice were solemn as he pulled her in for a hug. She gave his back a hesitant pat.

“Alright, kid, let her alone.” Jack, who had been hanging out at Arjun’s desk with Andy to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand, pulled him off. Without thinking, Audrey smiled gratefully and mouthed a thank you at him. He nodded and smiled back; unease washed over her.

“Lay off the booze, young man,” she directed. He attempted a salute and hopped off of the cot, wobbling. She watched as he was escorted out and laughed to herself as she cleaned up.

She was washing her hands in the breakroom when Jack approached her. He leaned his back against the counter, arms folded across his chest as he watched her. “Hoo- those boys sure were something, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” she answered, drawing out the word. “They were.” The electric kettle bubbled away as they stared at each other. _Oh my god- what do you want now?_ she wanted to snap at him. Instead she turned to pick up a mug. “So, uh,” she began slowly, almost robotically, in hopes that it would either prompt him to say whatever it was he wanted to say or leave. “Thanks again. For earlier. I- uh- owe you one.” Not that he’d needed to step in. Drunks were a dime a dozen in the Emergency Room.

“I got a way you can say thanks,” he replied in a thick, gruff voice. A pair of hands seized her shoulders and spun her around.

Before she could even ask what the hell he was doing, he rammed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened, nose wrinkling in disgust at the cloyingly sweet scent of his aftershave. The cup fell from her hand, hitting the floor with a loud crack. _Oh my god. Oh my fucking god no. This is not happening._ With a hard shove, she pushed him away. “What was that?” she demanded.

The timing could not have been worse.

Loud, hooting cackles echoed in the hallway. Behind Jack she could see Andy, Arjun, and the three mercenaries. At the base of his collar, Jack was beginning to turn pink. Arjun caught her eye and began to shepherd the group away.

_Pop_.

The kettle timer went off, water inside roiling at full force. Jack reached out with one hand, knocking it off of its stand and into the sink. Hot water hissed as it made contact with the metal basin, some of it slopping over the sink onto the floor. _Shit_. She watched steam rise into the air in one big cloud then curl into sinister tendrils. Barsad’s warning echoed in her head like a refrain: _you don’t know what he’s capable of_.

_Think, Audrey. Think_. “Look, Jack, I’m sorry if-” She took a deep breath. “If I gave you the impression that there was something going on between us.” Her hand moved back and forth in the space between them. He seized her wrist, gripping it tighter when she tried to pull away. His face had gone impossibly blank except his eyes which burned into her. A million things to say ran through her head, but none seemed to want to come out of her mouth. Her fingers were starting to tingle.

“It’s probably going to be stew again,” Andy’s voice echoed ruefully from down the hall.

Jack released her, straightening up. She stepped back until she hit the wall behind her. The place where he’d grabbed her wrist was on fire. She began to massage it, working feeling back into her digits, but did not take her eyes off of him. That wolfish grin lit up his features again. _Jesus, he’s crazy_. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Won’t happen again.” It was not reassuring. He winked, turned, and walked away.

She slid down the wall, reminding herself to breath. _I will never be alone with him again_ she promised herself. _Never._

Determined, and not wanting to appear weak, she picked herself up off of the floor looking at the broken mug and lukewarm water. _Just another goddamn mess that **I’ll** have to clean up_ , she thought wearily.

(-)

“Is everything alright?” Arjun asked as Audrey dumped the contents of the dust pan into the trashcan. She moved back to the cabinet and began replacing the fallen bottles.

“Fine,” she replied airily. “Why?”

“I wanted to make sure-”

She was saved from further questioning by the afternoon lunch delivery.

“It all took care of itself, I promise. I’ll help with set up!” Then, like a shot, she was off to assist Barsad in the breakroom.

It turned out to be just what she needed. His presence was soothing, not full of questions or rage or misinterpreted ideas. Or it was at first.

She was reaching over him for a bowl when his brow creased. “Where’d you get that?” he asked, sticking his chin out at her wrist. _Shit_. Where Jack had grabbed her was now a maroon colored bruise. She hadn’t expected that to happen so quickly.

She shrugged and tucked it back into the sleeve of her sweater. “Hit it on the wall earlier.” She thought of the way her fingers had gone numb and an involuntary shudder went through her.

“You don’t play poker do you?”

“What?” Confusion was all over face. “No, why?”

“Good, you’d be rubbish at it.” He sighed. “It looks like someone grabbed you. Patient?”

“Yes.”

He turned to face her. “Out with it.”

In a hushed voice, she told an extremely abridged version of the events. He didn’t stop to interrupt, nor did his face betray what he was thinking. He listened. When she finished all she felt was relief at having told somebody. _I miss Beth_. The thought prompted unexpected tears to spring to her eyes. She blinked them away. She did not need Barsad to think she was having an emotional breakdown over _Jack_.

“I’ll have a chat with-”

“No!” She must have said that too quickly, too forcefully, because he just stared at her. Then, resentful, but rationally, “You’ll just make it worse. I handled it and I don’t think we’ll be having that problem again.”

Andy walked by, whistling and eyeing the food. Wanting to appear normal, she pulled a couple of spoons from the drawer and threw them on the counter.

“You’re made of tougher stuff than I gave you credit for.”

Instead of an actual reply, she snorted. Her gaze drifted over to the entry way, but she couldn’t hide the upturn at the corners of her mouth. She stepped out into the hall to announce, mostly to Andy, that lunch was _finally_ served. She was so distracted that she didn’t notice the long, reflective look that followed her out.


	8. Seven

_“Nothing is like it used to be, lady,” he said. “The world is almost rotten.”_

_― Flannery O'Connor, “The Life You Save May be Your Own”_

* * *

 

Chapter Seven

A week and a half later an opening presented itself.

Audrey was laying on one of the cots, reading, while rain pounded on the windows. Judging by how cold it had been, there would soon be snow. Arjun dozed in his office chair; his snoring was rhythmic and on the verge of putting her to sleep too.

“Arjun?” she asked. A loud snore. “I’m going to make some tea.” She paused but the snoring continued. Smiling to herself and muttering about old people, she rolled off the cot in search of something to keep her awake.

The main hall was empty. She wandered into the breakroom where they kept the electric kettle and was surprised to find it empty as well. She poked her head into a few of the other rooms trying to quash her mounting excitement. Nothing. _Okay, be cool. They’re around here somewhere…_

The building doors were glass, darkly tinted to shield the people outside from viewing the misery inside. No one appeared to be out there. There was not a soul in sight as she peered as far as she could to both sides. Heart pounding too loudly in her ears, she pushed one open. It gave way easily and she found herself on the other side. No alarms rang, no one came running out after her. Temporarily forgetting her captivity, and her last encounter with Jack, she inhaled the sweet scent of freedom.

Freedom smelled acrid and an awful lot like burnt tobacco.

Panic flared in her chest, causing it to tighten, and she cursed her own stupidity. She flattened herself against the wall, ears straining to hear over the barrage of sleet. Easing her way to the corner of the building where the smell was emanating from, she peeked around into a covered alley where Jack and Andy were standing. An Emergency Exit door was propped open and, had it not been for the weather, they would have likely been able to hear everything that happened inside.

“Andy, be a good boy and check the front, would ya,” said Jack, in a voice that was more order than suggestion. The ever compliant Andy flicked the butt of his cigarette and trudged over to the front.

There were two options, neither of which there was much time to consider. Going inside meant giving up whereas leaving meant facing the unknown. She decided she would take her chances with the latter. She turned and raced in the opposite direction, hoping to get away before Andy saw her.

The wind roared in her ears. Wet and cold came at her from all sides, but she didn’t stop. She turned down streets blindly, running anywhere that looked like it would lead somewhere far, far away. Not until she felt she was at a safe distance did she duck behind the stone pillars of a bank building.

_I’ve got to start going to the gym_ , she chastised as she tried to get her winded breathing back under control. The thought made her giggle, but there was a frenzied quality to it that she did not like. Crouching in a dark corner, all senses operating on high alert as she tried to see or hear any sign of pursuit, was not the place she wanted to have a break down.

“Take a deep breath,” she whispered remembering a meditation technique that Beth had taught her, mostly as a way to keep her from waging war with some of her patients. For each inhale, she silently counted to four and did the same for every exhale. As thoughts crowded around her head, she pushed them away. After several rounds of this, her breathing steadied while calm and logic resurfaced.

Now, it was a waiting game.

As the minutes passed, each one more excruciating than the last, she allowed herself to hope. She thought about her dad, how excited he would be to see her. She imagined the interaction over and over, finding comfort in the fact that the universe had aligned just right so she could see him again. So that he wouldn’t have to be alone when Gotham detonated.

The sound of the frozen rain fell into the same steady tempo as Arjun’s snores. To think that only an hour or two ago she had been trapped there. _Has it even been that long? Longer?_ Would they be looking for her now? Visualizing Jack having to explain her absence to Barsad brought a small smile to her lips. Trouble wouldn’t even begin to cover it, he was going to have his ass handed to him. If anyone could deliver a brutal tongue lashing, it was Barsad.

Despite being soaked and bitterly cold, her eyes began to feel heavy. She yawned and leaned her head against the marble, eyelashes fluttering as she debated whether or not it was safe to move. _Five minutes_. _Just five minutes and then I’ll figure out where I am and what the next step is_.

There was no way to be sure how much time had passed when she finally stirred from sleep. The sleet had stopped, but gray clouds still hung heavy in the sky, though they had taken on a lighter hue that could only mean one thing: snow.

She stretched herself back into working condition, body aching from the temperature drop and the uncomfortable position she had slept in. Her clothing was still damp and she shivered uncontrollably as the icy material touched her warm skin. “Okay,” she said, rubbing her hands together, trying to focus on something other than how she felt. “First thing’s first. Gotta figure out where I am.” The street sign on the corner was a good starting point in determining that she was a long way from home. By keeping off the main avenues, she thought she might be able to start covering good ground with minimal interaction.

The walk was lonely and, though she tried to hide it, Audrey was scared. The last time she’d walked these streets she had been lucky to end up kidnapped and not worse. _You don’t have a gun this time either_ , a nasty voice whispered in the back of her mind. In defiance of her fear, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and plastered a scowl on her face, hoping to come across tougher than she looked.

A group of metal trashcans lined up against the side of the street clanked together loudly causing her to jump back. The ground was slick and she almost fell backward, wildly windmilling her arms to steady herself. Once her feet were solidly planted on the ground, she positioned herself in what she hoped looked like a fighting stance right as two alley cats streaked past her.

As she watched them run down the street she caught sight of her reflection in the window. Instead of the fierce pose she had imagined herself being in, she was standing like a Street Fighter character. She burst into relieved, shaky laughter. “You’re losing it, Campbell. Get it together,” she scolded, shaking her head. This was becoming far too common a phrase she felt she had to use. But it worked.

Night came on quickly. The vacant streets were less of a comfort and more fuel to feed to her paranoia. Even the slightest sound now made her jump, pause, and look over her shoulder. Small snowflakes fell lazily from the moonless sky. The only source of light came from occupied buildings that still had power as most streetlamps had been knocked over in the initial blast.

The cold had gotten worse the darker it became. It pierced through her jacket so that her bones felt frozen and even now, relatively dry, she was still shivering. Every so often her teeth clicked together as her lower jaw trembled. She pressed the heel of her hand against her chin and rubbed her cheeks to try to regain feeling, wishing she’d managed to steal a scarf.

An open lot lay in front of her. Fire blazed in a trash can where two people, a man and a woman, huddled around it. Neither of them wore a red scarf, a potentially good sign. To avoid bringing attention to herself, Audrey shoved her hands in her pockets and slunk quietly past them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice asked from in front of her. A figure materialized from the shadows, his mouth widening into a Cheshire cat grin.

_Fuck_.

“Home.” She offered what she hoped was a sweet smile.

The man checked his watch and took a step toward her. It was a nice watch, gold with a jewel encrusted rim. On the face of it, she thought she saw dark flecks. She stepped away from him in response, bumping into another body. The man and the woman were behind her now. When had they moved? She rotated so that her back was facing the street, but the woman cut her off. _Okay,_ she reasoned. _You can talk yourself out of this._ The man with the watch clicked his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Out awfully late. Wonder why that is?”

“Just on my way back from a friend’s. Her mom is sick.” Her right hand fidgeted with a stray thread in the pocket of her jacket hoping they would think she was carrying a weapon. She gave them another, weaker, smile. “I don’t want trouble, just to pass through.”

“I don’t know,” the man to her left commented. His voice was low and gravelly. “You’re dressed pretty ritzy to be out in the open like this, lady.”

That was ridiculous. Except it wasn’t. Had she not had a warm shower, new clothes, and decent meals the last few days? Of course they would mistake her for some upper class denizen. She wished she had her old clothes. No doubt they would have left her alone then.

The man standing to her right held something in his hand that glittered in the fire light. A knife.

_Double fuck_.

"Can we just hurry this up already? It's freezing out here," the woman stated in flat voice. Audrey stiffened. _How often are they doing this that they’re so bored of it?_ That worried her more than the man with the knife; that was the attitude of a person who had nothing to lose.

An idea came to her. It was stupid, but if it worked she would be out of this mess. _Once more into the fray_ was her last thought before charging forward and ducking down.

An arm caught her right in the middle of her face as she tried to run by the woman. Black stars exploded behind her eyes and warm substance seeped out of her nose. She was pretty sure it was blood. A hand lodged itself into her hair, wrenching her back into the group.

“Nice try,” the woman jeered, shoving her hard against the brick wall and holding her there. The man with the knife moved toward her. Audrey averted her eyes, prepared for the inevitable, when a crack rang out. The third man collapsed. The woman’s grip loosened enough in the surprise of the moment for Audrey to get the upper hand. Her fist connected with the side of the woman’s face. Hard. She staggered back, but did not fall.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure step into the light.

Barsad.

They locked eyes and, for just a moment, Audrey forgot where she was as a combination of relief and utter terror swept through her. His mouth was set in a hard line, eyes searing with irritation.

_Oh, I am in trouble_.


	9. Eight

_“It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.”_

_― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights_

* * *

 

Chapter Eight

The man left standing took a swing at Barsad with the knife, just under where his vest ended. She missed what happened next.

The woman, taking advantage of the lull in activity, shoved her forward. Audrey lost her footing, but managed to fall on all fours instead of eating pavement. A swift kick to her stomach knocked the wind out of her. She rolled over and sucked in deep breaths. The woman reared her leg back again. With what strength she could muster, Audrey wrapped her hand around an ankle as the woman lashed out and yanked hard, seating her on the pavement.

Knife man gave a strangled yell and ran past, cupping one side of his face. From under his fingers, she saw blood and watched as it dripped onto the light layer of white now covering the sidewalk. The woman turned, took one look at Audrey’s liberator, and hauled herself up and out. The man’s howls echoed in the distance. She spared a glance at the third party who lay unmoving in the snow. _Yep. Definitely dead._

Boots crunched through the snow and came to a stop beside her. Audrey managed herself into a sitting position and tried to regain a steady breathing pattern through her nose. She looked up and frowned. Barsad had a busted lip and the visible part of his right forearm was red. "You're bleeding," she wheezed.

He stared down at her, jaw firmly set. Unamused, it would seem. He held out a hand which she used to pull herself up.

She had the good sense, at least, to keep her head down and all gratitudes to herself on the silent trek back to the apartment. It gave her time to think, something she was in desperate need of. This had been her one opportunity; it was clear from Barsad’s countenance there would not be another. She had come to terms with the situation if she wanted to survive. The irony of wanting to stay alive with nuclear doom looming on the horizon was not lost on her, but it did not shake her resolve.

Once safely inside, she threw off her jacket and launched into emergency medical mode. "Take off your shirt and sit down," she called as she searched under the kitchen sink for a first-aid kit. The cupboards banged shut as one by one they proved useless. She darted over to Barsad's room, pausing at the door.

"Is there a bathroom in here?" she asked, sticking her head out from behind the wall. He was standing next to the coffee table, grimacing as he peeled off his last layer and exposed his chest. Her eyes widened and she inhaled so sharply that she sent herself into a coughing fit.

To say he was in shape was an understatement. His arms weren't bulging with muscles, nor did he have a playboy movie star's finely sculpted six-pack, but he was incredibly toned. And then there had been v-shaped hipbones that plagued all of Audrey's fantasies _. Get a hold of yourself, woman._ It was probably just appreciation and post-fight hormones spilling over. That happened after an adrenaline rush sometimes. She’d seen it before in patients who tried to flirt with nurses after having been in bar fights or worse. Besides, he was a highly-trained assassin. Being in peak physical condition definitely had to be a requirement. _You’re just seeing him through battle goggles. That’s all._

"Alright?" he called.

Heat rose in her cheeks and she was glad for the barrier between them. "Great. Is there a bathroom or not?"

"Yes."

The inside of his room was much nicer than hers- or had been, anyway. All the decoration had been taken down and was stowed in one corner covered in horrendous velvet drapery that must have adorned the now bare windows. An unmade four poster bed was shoved unceremoniously against the wall next to a nightstand that held an alarm clock, a bottle of whiskey, and a half-full glass.

Reminding herself that she was on a mission, she rummaged through the cabinets until she found what she was looking for. She paused only once more to take stock of herself in the mirror and blanched. Her nose, while mercifully not broken, was crusted with dried blood. She splashed some water on it and gently, but hastily, cleaned her face. She lifted her shirt. Just under her ribs would bruise, badly, but nothing was broken. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair, gingerly touching the spot where it had been pulled. Tender, but nothing some ibuprofen wouldn’t cure.

She reappeared in the living room where Barsad was sitting on the coffee table. “Thought you might have changed clothes,” he said, eyeing her outfit which was rumpled and still slightly damp from the snowy walk home. “You’ll catch a cold like that.”

“Thanks, Dad, but I’ll be fine.”

He stiffened at this rebuke and chose to watch in irritated silence as Audrey laid the kit out and assessed her patient: busted lip and two shallow lacerations- one by the elbow and one to the waist. Nothing that would require stitches but it did need cleaning and bandaging. After retrieving a warm bowl of water and clean washcloth, she set to work.

The silence persisted and so did the tension. It didn't help that the cut on his side refused to stop bleeding. "Okay," she said, kneeling down to look at it directly. "I'm going to have to put pressure on this. It's not going to feel good. You've been warned."

He grunted in response. She pressed gauze to the wound and applied a little force. There was a hissing sound as he sucked in air between his teeth.

"None of this would have happened if you'd stayed put!" he thundered.

That was all it took to ruin her calm demeanor. The stress from the last few hours had piled up enough for her to reach breaking point. "No one told you to come after me!"

"Don't get shirty with me! You should be grateful it was me and not someone else! Jack was livid. He would have let you die or bloody well killed you himself. You've seen, and heard, too much to go free. You're a liability."

"Which isn’t my fault, thank you very much!" She closed her eyes and a strangled, frustrated sound escaped her. This was already off to a bad start, but she knew what she had to do next; even if it hurt worse than any physical pain she had endured thus far. When she opened them, she made direct eye contact. "I don't want to fight about this. Thank you for saving my ass," she paused. "Again."

The anger melted away from his face replaced by disbelief. He opened his mouth and closed it again. She turned her attention back to the task at hand so that he couldn’t see the few tears that escaped from her eyes even as she furiously tried to blink them away. _Stop crying_.

A quick look under the gauze showed that the bleeding was slowing down significantly. "Look, neither of us have exactly made this situation… easy. I don't want to be here as much as I'm sure you don't want me here. We'll just treat this as a reset, okay? I promise I'll try to keep my head down and my mouth shut."

A hand cupped her chin, lifting her head so that their faces were within kissing distance. It was a gentle gesture, but it forced her to look at him. _God, his eyes are so blue._ It wouldn’t have taken much to close the gap between them and for one insane second she wanted him to. His brows furrowed and, once again, she felt herself vulnerable under the power of his examination. A thumb wiped her cheek. "What is so important to you that you'd continue risking your life for it?"

_Jesus, Audrey,_ she scolded herself. She jerked her face out of his hold, dabbing her cheeks with the back of her hand, and busied herself with the process of cleaning and wrapping. "My dad. He's been… not well since my mom died last year. Cancer."

There was an awkward pause and then, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "She knew it was coming. What she didn't bother to tell me just how bad it was. I wasn't there when she passed and I don't think she wanted me to be. My mom was a tough lady. It would have killed her to have anyone see her that way. She's the one who encouraged me to travel because she didn't get to do a lot of it- any, really. My dad's always been scared of change. Sorry. I'm rambling.”

They lapsed into silence.

“You know," she said finally, half-teasing, half-curious. "You could have avoided this if you'd just shot them all."

"Out of ammo. Didn't really have time to pop back 'round here and pick anything up.” He paused, fingers tapping once against the scuffed wood of the table. “So, why'd you stay? Guilt, I'd wager."

She lightly laid medical tape over the bandage. "You're done." She stood, picking up the bowl and washcloth as she went, and walked toward the kitchen. He grabbed her arm, not unkindly, and drew her back.

"Your hand looks like shit," he commented as he inspected it. "Who taught you to throw a punch?"

"It was my first time," she admitted sheepishly. He laughed and the sound was so warm and infectious that she couldn’t help chuckling too.

"Sit.” He shook his head as he went to work on fixing her. With an expert flick of his wrist, he unwrapped the washcloth and found an unused corner. It was almost like a magic trick until the lukewarm cloth touched the tops of her bruised and bloodied knuckles. She jerked her hand back, glaring at him. “Not such a good feeling is it?” He smirked. “You didn't answer my question."

"You really want to know?” He nodded. "Mostly guilt, yes. I spent so much of my time trying to get out of here that I never bothered visiting when I was gone. Not as much as I should have. My dad was a wreck at the funeral. I knew I couldn't leave him like that. So a friend of mine helped me get a job at the hospital and the rest is history, I suppose."

"Do you miss it?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. She didn’t need clarification on that one. For a moment she allowed herself to remember the way the sun in Sudan felt on her face, warming her to the core; the way the kids had tugged at her shirt and cried “Miss! Miss!” to get her attention; the freezing cold water that engulfed her body as she cliff jumped in Belize. It was hard to believe that she was the same person who had done those incredible things.

"All the time."

After clean up, Audrey changed into pajamas and collapsed on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over her legs. She picked up the book she had been reading only last night. It felt like a decade had passed since then.

Barsad sat on the other end, feet resting on the coffee table. He glanced over at her before settling in, head leaned back and eyes shut. "What are you reading?"

"Hm? Oh, Flannery O'Connor short stories. Ever read any?"

He snorted in response.

Intrigued, she peeked at him over the top of the book. "You can-"

"Yes, Audrey, I can read."

For the second time that night she blushed. "Only curious."

Silence. He stared at her expectantly.

"Would you- ah, bugger it."

Audrey lowered the book with an audible sigh. "Would you like me to read to you?"

"Might help me fall asleep faster."

"Rude."

"Get on with it."

"A Good Man is Hard to Find. 'The grandmother didn't want to go to Florida. She wanted to visit some of her connections…'"

She'd almost managed to get to the end before she heard the deep breathing of sleep. Not wanting to wake him, she set the book down, nestled further into the blanket, and closed her eyes.


End file.
